The only picture I can find of my grandfather shows him saluting my bride. I like it, but this is about whiskers.
When I first read “there were giants in the land in those days,” I thought of my grandfathers, district superintendents in the Free Methodist church. These men were both very conservative in their views.
After Grandmother Parks died, Grandpa B. R. (Burton Rockwell?) Parks lived in the little house behind us for many years in Spring Arbor.
In the 1960s, some were pushing back against the Beatles’ hair over the ears and Elvis’ sideburns. They told me shaving high above the ears and on the back of the neck made them look “more Christian.”
Maybe I assumed my ancestors those who lived closest to God tended in this direction of “less hair = deeper spirituality.”
Grandfather was describing his Christian upbringing and showing me portraits of his father and grandfather. I noticed beards covered the first few buttons on their shirts.
“Our ancestors seem to have full beards.”
“Oh yes,” Grandfather chuckled. “They thought their whiskers gave them power with God.”
